The first time I met Joe* he was abrupt, bordering on rude.
It was his daughter’s birthday party and I was dropping off my eldest girl for the afternoon. I stood on the front step clutching her hand, and when the door suddenly swung back, we were met by the scowling face of an obviously irritated, but handsome, man.
I remember smiling tentatively and asking if we were at the right address. Without a word, the door was slammed in my face.
A minute later, the door reopened and Joe’s wife Steph* was standing there with a strained smile on her face as she welcomed my daughter inside.
As I made my way back to the car I thought about Joe’s obnoxious reaction – it was safe to say that he had made an impression. I glanced back at the house to see him watching me as I walked away. Apparently, so had I.
It would still take another three years before anything happened between us.
I was 30 when we met and had been married to Liam* for eight years, with four young children. Liam worked in construction and 14 hour days were the norm. I wasn’t particularly unhappy, but I wasn’t blissful either.
Through our children, Steph and I had become fast friends, socialising together both with and without our husbands.
Joe was an enigma to me, the mean and moody type, and just like the cliché, I was smitten straight away. Just a few months after that first meeting on the doorstep, intrigue had manifested into full blown attraction.
I never planned to act on my growing feelings – it never even occurred to me. It was like a deliciously private secret that was all mine.
One night, we found ourselves the last two left after a celebration with a group of mates. Steph had gone home after one too many glasses of wine, leaving Joe and I to finish our drinks. The air between us became charged with tension.
We stumbled through some inconsequential small talk before finally leaving to make our way home to our respective houses. Walking back, Joe stopped and his intense stare made it clear to me what was about to happen. Seconds later we found ourselves kissing passionately.
We discussed the possibility of a future together but our lives were so intertwined it seemed impossible
When we finally pulled apart I had no hesitation in taking him home. My house happened to be empty; I felt like it was fate.
When I woke the next morning, Joe was gone and I was overwrought with shame and fear. I was scared of being discovered, and riddled with anxiety at the thought of facing Steph and my husband.
Joe felt the same, but it didn’t last long. Within a few days we were both consumed with the need to see each other again.
Our initial shame was quickly replaced by reckless self-indulgence. In an attempt at self preservation, I tried my utmost not to think of the children or our spouses. It caused paralysing guilt when I did.
Joe and I embarked on a year-long affair, throughout which we became masters at compartmentalisation.
I managed to sneak away at least once a week to meet him in hotels – far enough away to avoid suspicion but close enough that I could get home to the children quickly if needed.
We also spoke at least three times daily over the phone, and our morning call quickly became the highlight of my day.
Each time we parted it became more difficult. We discussed the possibility of a future together but our lives were so intertwined it seemed impossible.
Meanwhile, I had convinced myself that I was maintaining my façade at home. I was wrong.
Neither Joe nor I were as talented as we had thought in the art of deception and both our spouses had become suspicious. They had both noticed small changes in our behaviour and it had been enough for them to have a conversation where they discussed their fears at length.
One night after dinner, Liam finally confronted me. My silence spoke volumes and in a fit of rage he slapped me hard across the face before storming out to confront Joe.
I was stunned. Liam had never been violent towards me before and despite the circumstances, I was petrified of what would happen when he got to Joe.
As it transpired, Liam stopped off in a local garage on his way to Joe’s just as Joe pulled into it, having received my emergency text that trouble was coming. From what I was told, there was one punch and even fewer words before Liam marched out, leaving Joe hanging his head in shame.
The next few weeks were a blur. Before I had an opportunity to sit the children down and explain the situation, Liam blurted out the whole sordid affair, leaving them confused and frightened.
I knew deep down that I was deserving of all the upset and the trauma, but it was the children, who were innocent, who paid a hefty price for my actions
He felt they had a right to know and wanted them to hate me as much as he did. It didn’t work. While confusion reigned for a long time, I was their mother and they loved me.
I didn’t abandon them either, unlike their father.
Liam left our home a broken man. He went abroad citing new business opportunities and in many ways I was relieved, until I slowly realised that he was never coming back.
He cleaned out all our bank accounts before he left, so we were penniless and later lost our home. His children never saw him again.
I knew deep down that I was deserving of all the upset and the trauma, but it was the children, who were innocent, who paid a hefty price for my actions.
The first few years were unbearably tough for them but they have overcome their anger and now just feel pity for their father.
Through everything, Joe was there. He had moved out of his home a few days after our deception had been uncovered and slowly but surely we navigated our way through the fallout.
His children were just as confused as mine, their loyalty obviously lying with their heartbroken mother. It took a long time for them to even look me in the eye but eventually they came to accept me. Seeing their mother heal played a big part in that.
Joe and I moved in together after seven years of being a couple, which took a lot of getting used to. I had been living on my own with the children for so long that cohabiting was something of a challenge for both of us. Still, we worked through it, and now we have plans to build our own house and finally have our forever home.
Steph never spoke to me again apart from spitting in my face at the school gates one day as our children looked on. The friendships between the children ultimately survived and they now jokingly refer to each other as ‘step-siblings’.
Thankfully, Steph has since found happiness with another man and for that I am glad. The divorce was harsh and she and Joe rarely speak beyond the odd text regarding their children, which is probably for the best. There has been too much hurt on all sides.
Is it true love between me and Joe? I believe it is. We have been through more trauma in 10 years than anyone should face in a lifetime and while we are still ashamed of our actions, and I regret absolutely the hurt that we caused, I still have the innate feeling that we were supposed to be together, corny as it sounds.
Maybe our true love for one another will never be enough, though. Our actions threw so many lives into chaos, and the recovery has been slow and tortuous.
I had a conversation with Joe’s daughter recently and she confided in me that it was only worthwhile if her father and I were in it for the long haul.
The idea of her father destroying their family over a short-lived fling filled her with resentment, but true love – she could handle that.
*Names have been changed
Last week in Love, Or Something Like It: Being a fat Black woman hasn’t ruined my love life – it’s saved it
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Love, Or Something Like It is a regular series for Metro.co.uk, covering everything from mating and dating to lust and loss, to find out what love is and how to find it in the present day. If you have a love story to share, email rosy.edwards@metro.co.uk
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source https://metro.co.uk/2020/08/08/affair-best-friends-husband-13094690/
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